


bathroom fights

by terrible_titles



Series: The After Life [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Character, Domestic, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Post-Canon, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4818113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrible_titles/pseuds/terrible_titles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faith re-enters Buffy's life after a long absence and is, as usual, a whirlwind of destruction.</p><p>*This fic can be read either as a standalone one-shot or part of The After Life series.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	bathroom fights

“Oh my _god_ , Faith, what is this?”

Buffy’s halting shout echoed down the short hallway to where Faith was sitting cross-legged on the living room carpet in front of the television, munching on honey nut cheerios because Buffy didn't believe in starting your day with cookies, not even cookie crisps.  

The stomp of heeled boots followed the shout until a tiny blonde woman was standing between her and the TV, forcing her to look up. She raised her eyebrow. "And your problem is...?"

Buffy waved a curling iron at her. "I nearly got electrocuted! You do realize power strips on the bathroom sink are a colossally terrible idea?"

"Noted. Now—" Faith gestured with her hand. "Move."

"That's not all, Faith. I found at least two of my nail polishes broken in the trash can; _do you know how hard that is to get off plastic_ —"

"What, you're complaining because I cleaned up after myself?"

"—and that's not even mentioning how many have gone missing, or the hair clogging up the drain—"  
  
"Okay, well, excuse me for having hair."  
  
"—or the fact that you don't seem to think it's necessary to rinse out the sink after brushing your teeth, or the foundation that's spilled all over the floor, _my_ foundation—"

"I think this counts as mentioning it, B."

"—and _someone_ has gone through all of my conditioner." Buffy paused, taking deep, heaving breaths. "Are you using my loofah?" 

"I didn't use your conditioner," Faith said, drawing up to her full height over Buffy, staring down the tiny slayer with as much menace as she could muster. "I don't think hair should smell like fruit." 

Buffy stared back for a long moment, her face going through several amusing shifts as she tried to settle on an emotion. Finally, she snapped the hair curler back and spun on her heel. "I'm going to be late for work. You need to clean up the bathroom sometime today. Earn your keep. And stop stealing my stuff."

As she disappeared back down the hallway, Faith felt her face break out into a bemused smile and settled back in with her cheerios.  
  
*

Living with Buffy had turned out to be a fantastic idea. Mostly because she had nowhere to go and nothing to do, and Buffy's small little apartment and her unending list of annoyances solved both of these problems quite nicely.

Wood offered Buffy another job as a guidance counselor when he was promoted to superintendent in a town a couple hours north of Sunnydale, far enough away to be relatively untouched, but close enough to comfort her, Faith suspected. After all, her entire life had been spent in that dump, and seeing your whole life land squarely in the mouth of hell had to be at least somewhat traumatic. Faith knew a bit about that.

So she brought Buffy a peace offering—she knew living with her wasn't easy, and she was honestly grateful for the digs.

"Here’s a sandwich," Faith said, sidling around the open door to find Buffy with a pile of file folders in front of her, attention focused on the computer.

"Did you clean the bathroom?" she asked without looking up.

Faith rolled her eyes. "Sure."

Buffy moved her gaze to Faith and stared steadily.

"I mean, I will, B. Just take the damn sandwich."

Buffy grabbed the plastic-wrapped lunch and inspected. "Roast beef?" she asked.

"Yeah, if that's what was in your fridge. Added some cheese, even slapped some mustard on that bitch."

If she wasn't mistaken, Faith was watching Buffy's mouth twitch up dangerously close to a smile. "All right, your apology is accepted," she said, unwrapping the sandwich and then waving it at her. "Bribing me with food is cheating." 

Faith took the empty student chair, turned it around, and straddled it. "So this is a nice office." She looked around at the clean light wood accents, large windows, and white walls.

"Private, you know, for the kids to talk."

"Have to say, never figured you for this type of work."

Buffy shrugged, chewing a bite delicately. She swallowed. "It's nice, you know, being able to help someone in the non-punching way."

"You ever miss it?"

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Why, do you?"

Faith returned with a shrug. "I never left it, not really. Violence isn't the best answer, but sometimes you don't always get the best question. I mean, the whole deluge of slayers thing was really helpful, don't get me wrong, but there's still a war, and I'm still a soldier."

Buffy peeled down the plastic wrap a little further on her sandwich and paused, then said softly, "I feel like I put in my time."

There wasn't a great response to that, at least not one Faith could put her finger on in time before Buffy moved on. She was like that, always had been, but it felt worse than usual since they had found each other again. Talking about the past, about herself, about anything more than Faith's slovenly habits seemed more than Buffy could bear.

"Have you had something for lunch, other than cereal?" Buffy asked. "Because you can't live on cheerios and I'm not buying anymore when you run out."

Faith grinned and stood up. "That's okay, I was planning to do some grocery shopping of my own on the way home with a twenty I snagged from your purse."

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but Faith was already around the bend and down the hall before she could say a word.  
  
*

Twenty dollars did not buy as many boxes of cookie crisps as she liked, but it would have to do. Buffy still provided the milk, so she estimated her food intake was set for about a week. Just how Faith liked it, not too much energy expended in the decision-making process. Unlike Buffy, who tended to fret about her protein. _Out of the game, my ass._

Just as Faith turned out of the sliding door, every hair on her body stood on end. She did a quick swivel to find a tall man, covered in a hoodie and sporting short chunky boots, step in front of her. He kept going, right out into the bright sunny day, which made no sense because every slayer instinct in her screamed that he was a vampire.

And Faith did not ignore her instincts.

She dropped the bag of cereal, caught up quickly, and slammed the man into brick next to the door.

"Woah!" the vamp shouted. "I wasn't doing anything to you!"

"Yeah, don't think I don't know what you're up to," Faith hissed. She didn't, actually, but he didn't have to know that. From what she saw, he was just a kid—not that his baby face couldn't disguise a centuries-old bully, but she'd gotten a pretty good idea over the years of the difference between a new sire and an actual threat.

"Lady, I don't know—"

"Don't 'lady' me," Faith said. "Did you miss the lecture in 'creature of the night' school that explained what suns do to your kind? Let me remind you." She yanked the hoodie down around his too-wide ears. He flinched appropriately, but that was it—that was all. She took a step back. His face broke into a wide grin and he started chuckling, then laughing out right.

Faith reared back and punched him. His head slapped against the brick and he spat blood.

"Ow!" he cried.

"I see no pretty rings on your finger. So where is it?"

He rubbed his jaw and looked more than a little perturbed. "I'm just a peaceful guy, trying to get along in a world filled with little slayer monsters. You won't give us a break. We gotta get our advantage where we can, don't we? With all your girls running around, fucking up the night for us..."

Faith stomped on his boot, hard, the kneed him in the groin. "Where. Is. It."

An elderly lady came out the side doors beside them with a grocery cart full of bags. She took one look at pair of them and decided to give them a wide berth.

"Help me!" the idiot vampire called. "Call 911! I'm being assaul—"

Faith slammed her hand over the boy's mouth. "Cute," she said. "Real cute. Now you're going to tell me where your pretty magic item is or I'm going to start lobbing off body parts looking for it."

The vamp wasn't talking, but his eyes flickered to his left ankle. Faith's stakes were in her bag; her knife was quicker, so she pulled it and shoved it into his gut, then reached down into his boot to snap an ugly thick amulet from his ankle. He yelped, grabbed his hoodie, and dived back into the store front.

Her bag of cereal was sitting right outside the door, so she walked over and snatched it up, gave the pathetic vamp a shrug, and then walked out of the parking lot, examining the trinket.

According to her watch, it was closing in on 3:00, so she rushed back to the school and found Buffy speaking to a student. She waited patiently outside, or as patient as you could be when you were tapping your foot and peeking in the closed office door’s tiny window to give Buffy exasperated looks every thirty seconds.

Finally, Buffy opened the door for the girl she was speaking to. "Let me know when you finish those college essays and we'll look at them together, okay?"

The student nodded, gave a nervous smile, and scampered away just as the bell rang and hundreds of teenagers flooded the hallways. Buffy turned to Faith and raised her eyebrow.

"Come to show off your grocery store finds?" she asked.

"Yes—" Buffy was looking at her bag of cereal. "Wait, not that. This." She held up the bracelet. "Snatched it off a vamp at the grocery store. I'd never seen one, but I know you had dealings with the Gem of Amara, and it looked like this was doing the same magic trick for my friend there."

Buffy frowned and ushered Faith into the office, closing the door behind her.  She tilted her chin towards Faith's hand. "Let me see."

On Faith's open palm sat a circle of innocuous thick metal. Buffy picked it up and moved it around. The afternoon light sprayed down on it, causing faint gleams of purple and green to gleam from the inside. She sat it down and traced a nail over the weaving pattern.

"It definitely didn't look like this," she finally commented. "Who had it?"

"That's the thing; it was just some new sire, far as I could tell."

Buffy frowned, leaned down to touch it again, then paused, hand hovering above it. "How would a new sire get their hands on something like this?"

"Beats me." Faith dropped down into the student chair sideways, legs dangling, one arm slung around the back. "Don't you still have Giles or Willow's number? Call 'em up, dump it in their laps to deal."

"Haven't spoken to them in ages..." Buffy mused. Faith felt her eyebrow quirk up and Buffy immediately re-focused on Faith, aware of her blunder. "I didn't mean—"

Before she could finish, Faith stood up and shushed her. Outside the window, all had gone quiet—the children had scurried off to their other destinations, but the hall wasn't empty. 

Faith turned back to see Buffy’s eyes had widened. “Vampires,” she whispered. “In the school.” 

“A gang of them,” Faith confirmed. And the trail of blood on the linoleum indicated that the friend she made earlier must be with them. She crouched low and rifled through her bag for the stakes—one she handed to Buffy, one she kept close to her side. She hadn’t much need for them lately; vampires were much less daring now than they used to be, before the awakening. Still, old habits die hard, and she was thankful for that now.

Buffy was staring out the window, where the afternoon was brightly slanted into her office, with a deep frowning expression. 

“You think there’s more than one of these trinket things?” asked Faith.

“They could have come up from the sewers,” Buffy answered, coming to crouch by her. “The building’s older.” She paused. “But yeah. There must be.”

“Don’t worry, B. We can take these vamps, no problem. The one earlier was a breeze.”

Buffy’s expression changed into one of annoyance. “Don’t patronize me. I still know how to slay. Besides, it’s not you they’re after or they’d already be here. Go on, let’s follow the trail.”

Faith pushed the door open and looked around—nothing. She beckoned Buffy, who straightened and followed her down the rows of lockers, around the bend, where the blood trail stopped in front of a supply closet. It was either a trap or one startlingly stupid vamp. The way her day was going, Faith wouldn’t be surprised at either.

Faith glanced at Buffy, who nodded and fell to the front. Faith got into position behind her, and as soon as Buffy opened the door, Faith reached behind her for the nearest vamp stalking them and tossed him in front with the injured one Buffy pulled out of the closet. She let Buffy deal with those two and turned to the other four, one already too close to her left side. She threw out a side kick that propelled him towards Buffy’s group, flipped around, and staked the one closest to her.

The fact that the girl didn’t immediately dust only caught Faith off guard for a second, luckily. Buffy appeared to be struggling with the same problem and she threw an exasperated glance to Faith.

“Ankles!” Faith shouted, pulling a knife. She ducked a punch and slid on her knees across the slick floor, parrying low behind her. The sharp blade cut deep, but the vamp was quick enough to pull his leg away before it sliced clean through.

“Rex, I got it!” came a shout down the hall.

Faith looked up, saw a broad woman holding up the bracelet. The other vampires used the brief distraction to take off towards the woman.

“They got the bracelet,” Buffy said, pulling herself up from her knees by a pile of dust—the injured bait, Faith guessed. “Get it, go!”

Faith took off after the group, rounded the corner back by Buffy’s office. She grabbed the bag they must have looted and bowled it in front of her, succeeding in knocking over the back two, but the redhead grabbed a chair and tossed it back towards Faith to allow her comrades to escape. She just nearly managed to duck the blow to her head, allowing the metal leg to collide with her elbow with a teeth-gritting shock of pain.

Beside her, Buffy spared a quick glance to make sure she was all right, but didn’t slow at all as she passed and grabbed one of the slower ones from the floor, tossing him against the locker. Blood pooled in the floor, streaked low where Buffy pushed him into the metal—he was the one with the cut-up ankle. “That’s yours!” she called, and kept going.

Faith moved quickly and shouldered him in with her other arm before he could squirm away. “You guys are _not_ making my day easy,” she said, holding his shoulder firmly and feeling the metal cave beneath it. She held her knife back, prepared to thrust, but the vamp’s hand twisted out from where she had it pinned and held it there. Faith gritted her teeth, realizing her elbow was about to give, and let go of his shoulder, falling to the side. The injured vamp managed to knock her balance off enough to give him some time to veer around the corner and away from her. When she was able to give chase, he was gone.

She sighed and slid down the bloody lockers, cradling the wounded arm and banging her head back against the dented metal gently. It took only a few minutes before Buffy, also empty-handed, came back to see Faith sitting there. She joined her on the ground, looping her arms around bent knees.

“Seems we’re out of practice, B,” Faith said, looking over. “Letting a bunch of trashy morons get the better of us.”

Buffy stared ahead and nodded.

Faith bumped her shoulder against Buffy’s. “We can track ‘em, no worries.”

“We lost the bracelet.”

“Well, yeah, but we know how to sniff out a nest.”

Buffy shook her head. “No, something bigger is going on. Why would a bunch of newbie vamps have such powerful amulets? It doesn’t add up. And…” She hesitated. “I can’t be involved. That part of me is done.”

“What are you talking about? You’re still a slayer.”

Buffy stiffened as if stung. “No, Faith, I’m a high school guidance couns—”

“What _the hell_ is this?”

Buffy’s head shot up. Standing in front of the two of them was a long-legged lady in a pencil skirt, silver-rimmed glasses, and an outraged expression directly solely towards Buffy.

*

Sorry wasn’t going to cut it, not this time. No apology on Earth was going to fix this mess Faith had dragged into Buffy’s office.

But other than the stiff and awkward silence that lay between them, it would have been a nice walk home. Fall had hinted its impending arrival with dim and crisp evenings. As they rounded the sidewalk from the school lawn, Faith could even see a leaf or two on the tree-lined streets begin to change colors.

And if she hadn’t been so sullen, Buffy would have looked phenomenal in the orange-red light of the setting sun.

That was blatant untruth. Buffy looked phenomenal in all moods. Somehow, unfairly, Buffy seemed the type to keep on aging gracefully. The late twenties suited her: dark eyes and sharpness added maturity to her face and a hint of softness around the curves of her body told Faith Buffy wasn’t lying when she claimed to have set down her weapons years ago. She seemed comfortable in her life, if not entirely happy. Buffy, always the last one standing. Content in her loneliness.

Of course, that was before Faith had been a large part of her ungraceful firing.

“I’ve got an in with Wood, B, I could always call—”

“Hush,” Buffy interrupted, jerking a hand up. “Just. Quiet.”

Faith shut up, but frowned. Sure, it _was_ somewhat her fault, but Buffy couldn’t blame her entirely. The stuff with the sun amulets was weird and needed investigating, and as far as Faith knew from her albeit limited time of three weeks in this crappy town there wasn’t anyone else who took care of those things.

But perhaps, if Faith was going to be honest, it just simply felt good to think that she and Buffy could work together again. Of course, she had forgotten that they were just the muscle. She wasn’t sure how or when Buffy had lost track of Willow, Giles, and Xander, and Buffy had made it clear to Faith she would not be forthcoming on those details, but Faith supposed it happened in much the same manner as she had laid down her weapons: Buffy had simply walked away from them.

They walked by the market Faith had gone to earlier and Faith realized she had forgotten her bag of cereal in Buffy’s office. It didn’t matter that much, she supposed, but she was suddenly starved and faced with the inconvenience of having to figure something out to remedy that problem.

She cast Buffy a sidelong glance, but the shorter girl was still staring forward, jaw locked, expression hard, and Faith didn’t feel like that she should poke the angry beehive quite yet.

Buffy lived on the second floor in a one-room apartment two blocks from the store. Her building was a bland concrete square but had a prettily landscaped yard, at least. The iron stairs were rusted badly and in need of repair, but Faith suspected guidance counselors didn’t make enough to live in apartments with amazingly attentive landlords.

Buffy fiddled with the key and opened the door. Inside, the air was a bit cramped and stuffy. Buffy typically opened some windows to air it out a bit in the evenings if Faith had not already done so, but instead she merely collapsed on the worn couch and looked at her hands.

Faith stood nervously on the threshold, watching.

“Close the door, Faith,” Buffy said miserably.

“C’mon, B, we’ll call Wood. If anyone will understand, it’ll be him. Right?”

“Close the door.”

Faith sighed and stepped in, closing off the fading light behind her. She went to the long row of windows, however, and opened the curtains to let some natural light in. She wasn’t going to allow Buffy to wallow in misery in the dark.

“Want a sandwich? I’m starved. Slaying always makes me—”

“Makes you hungry and horny, I know,” Buffy answered.

Faith grinned, though Buffy wasn’t looking up to see it, and ventured into the kitchen to rummage around in Buffy’s fridge. She’d used up the last of the deli meat, but there was some leftover Chinese. Faith grabbed a fork and took a bite.

“Hey, this lo mein doesn’t taste too weird. We could split—”

“Not hungry.”

Faith set aside the Chinese and walked back into the living room, coming to stand in front of Buffy’s hunched over body. “All right, B, you can’t do this. We’ve got a nest of vamps with fancy jewelry and we’re eventually gonna have to weed them out. So eat something. We’ll talk, we’ll get a handle on this thing, figure out a game plan...”

Buffy looked up, and Faith could see clearly, with the light from the window, how dark her eyes were, how close to breaking she seemed to be. All words seemed to rush out of Faith at once, but Buffy stood up anyway and moved into the kitchen to stare at the paper container of lo mein Faith had been inspecting.

Faith didn't know what to do, exactly. Buffy stood too stiffly, like the tiny unmovable stalwart she was, balled fists and shrouded expression.

So she approached slowly, like she might a wounded animal. "B?" she asked. "Hey, uh, Buffy. You okay?"

Buffy lifted her gaze from the floor and gaze Faith a long, hard look. “Why are you _here_?” she asked.

Faith ducked her head, tried for a joking smile. “Uh, because my van broke down six months ago and I’ve been couch-surfing ever since?”

Buffy leaned forward, her voice still low, but a bit clearer now. “Why me? Why did you come here? There is a whole wide planet you could explore, and you came back here to bother me. Why?”

Faith couldn’t say anything. Even though Buffy hadn’t offered much of what she had been doing for the past five years, Faith couldn’t say she had been entirely forthcoming with her story either. It seemed like a win-win. When she showed up on Buffy’s doorstep one evening and asked if she could stay a while, she had expected more questions. Faith was disturbed by the ghost that greeted her, sure, but it was nice in its own weird way. She had kind of hoped they would continue to not talk about it; that life could keep on in this swimming, comforting confusion. Buffy was nothing if not order and calm in a storm, but Faith had disrupted too much. Hell, she _always_ disrupted too much when it came to Buffy. She didn’t know how to stop pushing, even after all this time.

“Well, to be honest, I—” She took a shaky breath, tried for a joking tone again. “I don't know.”

When Buffy was irritated, her dark eyes flashed once, her lips stretched into a parody of a smile, and her head tilted in this disconcerting manner.

“Is it your design in life to be a constant thorn in my side?”

Faith flushed and she could feel her own anger swell inside her for the first time in a long while. Calm it down, she told herself before the wave of red took over. Be still. Be here. She took a breath. “Okay. Okay, that’s fair, but I'm trying—I _have_ tried—”

“Tried what? Tried to make me miserable by worming your way back into my life just to mess it all up again like you always do? Why is that you can’t help destroying everything you touch?” Buffy laughed and stepped to the side. “And what made me think it would be any different this time?”

“Look, I get it. I’ve been shit to you most of the time you’ve known me. But you can’t deny that—that we’re _good_ together. I may get on your nerves, but I _get_ you. When you were the only one, I was there too, even when I wasn’t. And when everything else is fucked all to hell, the first thing I think of is you.”

Buffy paused, gave Faith a curious look, and then took a step forward. “You’re in a one-sided relationship and you don’t even know it. I don't _want_ you here, Faith.”

Ice settled in her chest, and then broke so suddenly it nearly caused her to gasp. She wanted to believe it was just Buffy being her stubborn self, lashing out when she hurt too badly to let anyone see, but her hardened gaze didn’t waver from Faith’s face. She had to look away first.

“Harsh, B,” she said, wiping at her chin as if she’d just been punched.

Buffy said nothing.

Faith was told once that a hard life bred resilience. That person was her mother, of course, and her mother could go fuck herself, but she had still clung onto that one thing. If Faith was nothing else, she was resilient. She could take this. She could be the boxer or the punching bag; it didn’t matter.

She set her jaw, looked back up, and was surprised, but not really, to see that Buffy's eyes had filled and her mouth was trembling ever so slightly.

Everything crashed back down between them—the tension, the anger—and all that was left was the fridge, the box of lo mein, and the slayer.

Faith took the last step to close the distance between them, stretched her hand out a little, thought better of it and brought it back in. Finally, she heard her voice echo small through the room. “I’m sorry,” it said. “I know this job was important to you.”

Then Buffy collapsed into her, gripping her shoulders, turning into them, shaking. And Faith really was more sorry than Buffy could know.  
  
*

“I'm sorry I snapped at you,” Buffy whispered, wiping her eyes. She was seated on the drooping couch. Faith rounded the bend of the kitchen partition to place two cups of tea on the coffee table, then sat across from her, her knee barely touching Buffy's carefully tucked-in one.  

“Don't worry about it,” Faith said, leaning forward. “Hey, we'll talk to that principal lady. I'll tell her it was my fault, you were just trying to contain the damage. She doesn't know me, doesn't know us.”

Buffy was already shaking her head before Faith could finish. “She knows I'm a slayer now. There isn't anything we can do about that.” She gave Faith a small, sad smile and took a mug to warm between her hands. Night had fallen, and it was a little chilly inside. The kitchen light behind them crossed with the warmer lamp light at Buffy’s side to cast interesting shadows on her face. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.”

They paused, silence stretching between them, but it was uncomfortable and filled with something Faith couldn’t make out, as if she might peer at it too hard and it would fly away.

Buffy took a sip of the tea and cleared her throat. “Hey, um, I meant it, you know, that I didn't mean it.” She scrunched up her face and looked adorably thoughtful. “I meant that I didn't mean what I said—”

Faith gave her a wry smile and decided to cut her off for her own good. “I know, Buffy.”

But suddenly, it struck Faith that they were very close. Buffy had somehow moved in without her knowing it, staring up at Faith so intently it was impossible to ignore her. She set her tea cup to the side, and Faith did the same.

Buffy looked down, almost shyly. The collar of Faith’s shirt shuddered and warmed with her breath as she spoke. “I lied before. It’s not one-sided.”

“B, what—”

She looked up. “And I want you here.”

Buffy's lips tasted like strawberries, and Faith cupped her chin and tried to be as gentle as she had ever been as she pressed her down into the arm of the couch. But it didn’t feel new at all. It felt as if Faith had been here forever, drawing hearts for Buffy in the steam of her breath, and always a little too close for comfort.

Faith broke the kiss, but Buffy, ever in charge, took hold of her and began kissing down her neck, so that Faith could only close her eyes and tuck her face into Buffy’s orange-scented hair. A brief pang of annoyance shot through her—god, how was everything about this girl so perfect? How did she fight vampires in impractical clothing without smelling the least bit like the stench of decay?

“Hey,” Buffy said, breaking away to look at Faith above her with a tiniest hint of a pout. “You’re not paying attention. I thought this was a moment.”

Just like that, the irritation was gone. “Sorry.” Faith shifted above her, aligning them just right, before leaning down close so her breath tickled Buffy’s ear. “I was just thinking I needed to borrow that shampoo sometime.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of some mostly self-contained, but loosely-connected stories. The series ignores the end of Angel, as well as any post Buffy season 7 canon, so it's a bit of an AU. Thank you so much for reading! Comments are lovely. :)


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